


This Kind of Love

by alwayseven



Category: Bandom, Panic At The Disco
Genre: Barebacking, Crossdressing, Felching, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-04
Updated: 2011-01-04
Packaged: 2017-10-14 10:25:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/148251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alwayseven/pseuds/alwayseven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel-ish to Nothing Quite Like</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Kind of Love

Jon doesn't know if it's a special occasion but for whatever reason, Brendon's wearing a particularly extravagant pair of panties tonight, vintage lace and a ruffle across his ass that just accentuates how utterly perfect and obscene it is.

It's a little warm, too warm almost, in the musty old motel room, despite the whir of the AC in the corner. Brendon's skin is flushed, a slight sheen making him glisten. He's breathing hard already, and he hasn't done much more than get naked save for the panties.

Jon's kicked his flip flops under the bed and is just standing, taking it all in. A couple of months of having this, Brendon, all to himself every night and he still hasn't gotten used to what it's like to be here with him, Brendon's slight yet definitely masculine frame in nothing but delicate, incredibly feminine lace.

"Jon," Brendon says, his voice a little rough, almost pleading.

Jon steps forward, cups his palms around Brendon's hips. Brendon tilts his head up, searchingly and opens his mouth as Jon comes down, slides his lips over Brendon's.

Jon loves the sweet way Brendon sighs and slides his arms up and around Jon's neck, wrists resting against Jon's back, fingertips running restlessly over Jon's warm skin.

"You're not too tired?" Jon murmurs between kisses, the corner of his mouth quirking up a little.

Brendon huffs, a rush of sound that's vaguely amused. "Not hardly," he says and it's probably supposed to be dry though it comes out more breathless than he probably intended.

Jon fingers the delicate lace-trimmed waist of Brendon's panties, slips his finger between the soft material and Brendon's damp skin, traces patterns over his lower back. He lets the palm of his free hand slide over the swell of Brendon's ass, over the lacy softness of the panties, pulling him in closer to feel how into this Brendon is, how into it he _always_ is.

Jon walks them forward towards the bed, licking into Brendon's mouth, taking in the feel of Brendon's naked skin pressed against him, though Jon's still wearing the clothes he changed into after the show.

Brendon stumbles, knees catching on the edge of the bed and Jon stills him, fingers curving into the lush curve of Brendon's ass, squeezing a little. Brendon chokes, startled and clutches at Jon's back. Jon slowly breaks the kiss, sucks briefly at Brendon's full lower lip, kisses the corner of his mouth, slides his lips down Brendon's jaw to press against his chin.

"Turn around," he tells Brendon, low and full of promise.

Brendon pulls back, eyes wide, cheeks flushed pink and his mouth comes up in a hopeful smile.

Jon closes his teeth around the stubbled skin below Brendon's jaw and sucks once. "If you're good," he says trying not to laugh at Brendon's shudder, anticipation already humming through him.

Brendon drops his arms and lets Jon turn him towards the bed. Jon palms his hips, pulls Brendon back against him, hard enough so Brendon can feel what this does to Jon, to reassure him that this hasn't gotten old. If anything, it still gets Jon off harder than anything, harder even than the first few times he got to see Brendon like this.

Brendon's trying to still his breathing, Jon can tell by the steady breaths he's forcing in and out of his lungs, trying not to be too eager.

Jon doesn't want Brendon to hold back, loves it best when Brendon forgets himself and just loses it.

Jon thrusts once against Brendon, rubs his thumb over the line of skin on his hip just above the lace waist. Brendon's head falls back, neck arching, to rest against Jon's shoulder.

Jon sucks a kiss into the juncture where Brendon's neck slopes to shoulder, lets his teeth catch once in the soft skin there.

Brendon's pressing his hips back, looking for more pressure, hands hovering in mid-air, unsure.

Jon steps away enough to press his palm flat against Brendon's lower back and pushes him gently towards the bed to get on his belly.

Jon takes a step back to take it in, Brendon's cheek against the comforter, legs hanging off the edge of the bed, all that soft, hairless skin spread out for Jon in nothing but the sexiest pair of panties Jon's ever seen.

Jon's fingers itch towards his dick but he stops. This is about Brendon for right now, about what Brendon loves but hates to ask for.

Jon sets a knee on the bed, throws his other over Brendon's hips and hovers over him, drops to his forearm above Brendon. He reaches down for Brendon's arm, curls his fingers around Brendon's wrist and brings it up over his head. He does the same with the other one, brings Brendon's arm up. He presses an open mouth kiss to the inside of Brendon's wrist where the thin is nearly translucent and feels Brendon vibrate with need.

He curls Brendon's fingers around those of his other hand so their interlocked above his head.

He slides his mouth to Brendon's ear. "Stay like this," he says and trails his lips down the side of Brendon's neck. He presses a kiss to the curve of Brendon's shoulder, tracing a pattern down his spine, counting the notches and indentations, feeling the thrum of Brendon beneath him.

Brendon's getting a little louder with the way his breathing's coming in gasps, stops and starts.

"It's okay," Jon says, halfway down with his mouth open against Brendon's skin. "I want to hear you. I want to know what you want."

Brendon's still holding back, and that's fine with Jon. For now. Before this is done he's going to make Brendon ask for what he needs.

Jon slides his tongue out flat, drags it down the middle of Brendon's back, over the grooves of his spine, down towards the swell of his ass. Sweat and salt gather on his tongue and Jon shivers slightly, pressing his hips forward into Brendon.

Jon glances up and sees Brendon with his face pressed to the mattress, shoulders straining as he arches slightly and Jon knows what he's doing, knows Brendon's trying to rub himself off against the bed. And Jon hasn't gotten to the good stuff.

"Mmm," Jon mumbles, turning to press his cheek against Brendon's warm, sweaty skin above his hip. "I love how much you want this," he says, not teasingly just open, honest. It's one of the things that really _does_ it for him, watching Brendon get off on whatever it is he loves, whether it's the feel of silk and lace stretched tight across his hard dick or having Jon's tongue fucking into him. Jon loves it when _Brendon_ loves it.

"You must hate me, you fucking tease," Brendon gasps but it sounds a little muffled like he's got a mouthful of comforter. The idea that Brendon's biting down on the covers makes Jon a little crazy and this isn't about him, but fuck if it isn't pretty amazing doing this for Brendon.

"No," Jon hums, rubbing his nose across Brendon's skin, nuzzling him. _Love_ , he thinks of saying. But he doesn't, just takes his sweet time showing Brendon how he feels, what he loves most.

Brendon _loves_ to be rimmed, loves it to the point that Jon's made it his mission to see if he can get Brendon to come with nothing more than his tongue in Brendon’s ass.

Jon readjusts himself and his weight so he's kneeling between Brendon's thighs. He reaches up and cups Brendon's shoulders, pressing him down because he knows as soon as he gets his mouth down there Brendon's going to be looking for leverage, trying to fuck himself back against Jon's face.

Jon draws his tongue flat down the curve of Brendon's lower back and keeps going, licks firm and hard down the lace-covered line of Brendon's ass. He does it again and again, wetting the filmy material. Above him, Brendon's head thrashes a little, and Jon looks up to see Brendon twisted around as much as he can with Jon's hands holding him down. He's got his lower lip between his teeth and a bright red flush staining his cheeks.

"Yeah, you want it," Jon tells him, but he's not teasing because this isn't a laughing matter, it's serious all of a sudden, how hot it is to see Brendon like this.

Jon braces one palm flat between Brendon's shoulder blades, slides his other hand down Brendon's side, fingers coming to hook in the waistband of Brendon's panties.

He pulls them back, just an inch and kisses the exposed skin, smooth and pale and really, really _nice_. Brendon sighs but he's steadying his breathing and trying to compose himself.

Jon keeps going, pulls the material down over the beautiful shape of Brendon's ass, kissing, brief wet kisses, as he goes. He gets the lace down and lets the panties bunch high up on Brendon's thighs, trapping him, but leaving his ass exposed and completely, utterly open.

Jon leans up, trails kisses down Brendon's spine again until he gets to Brendon's ass, the line of it revealed for him and flattens his tongue, licks sharp and firm all the way down until he gets to the hidden pink hole. He avoids it though, drags his tongue back up and licks again, down and up until he feels Brendon shudder and try to push back against Jon's tongue, looking for more than this.

Jon forgets himself for a minute as he's licking at Brendon, cups his dick through his jeans, trying to keep from coming just from the taste of Brendon's skin on his tongue, the way Brendon's trying to get more, the noises he tries to keep from making.

Jon squeezes his hand around his dick once more and drops to the floor, grasping Brendon's hips and pulling him backwards until Brendon's upper body is supporting him on the bed, his legs hanging off the edge.

Jon cups Brendon's ass, thumbs pressing together at the center, not pushing in but spreading so Jon can get a good look at Brendon like this, pink and tiny hole.

Jon tongues him then, licks wet and sloppy over Brendon's hole, firm pressure that makes Brendon keen out, startles him into pressing back against Jon's tongue. Jon keeps licking, long wet licks over Brendon's skin, his mouth watering with it, his dick throbbing.

His hands on Brendon's ass keep him spread open for Jon, gives Jon room to get as much of his tongue on Brendon's hole as he can until Brendon's all but sobbing, still trying to keep the sounds in. Jon drags his eyes up and Brendon's own are pressed tightly closed, his lip swollen and teeth-bruised. He's arching again despite the pressure of both of Jon's hands holding him down.

"I'm not letting you go," Jon tells him, and he sounds hoarse and wrecked to his own ears, not as in control as he'd like to be. But when it comes to Brendon, he never is.

"I'm not letting go until you come apart, until you show me how much you love this," Jon says, licking again over and over. It’s not a threat, just the truth, just so Brendon knows what _Jon_ wants.

He sucks the tip of his thumb between his lips even as he keeps licking, trying to get it wet enough that he can push it into Brendon's ass, not deep, just a shallow pressure that allows his tongue to push past the impossibly tight clench of muscle.

Jon keeps his thumb there, pressure opening Brendon up for him. Jon takes a breath meant to steady him but does the opposite as he inhales the smell of Brendon, sweat, soap, that flowery spray he loves. But there's more, the smell of musk, Brendon's pre-come. Jon knows if he were to flip Brendon over, his dick would be dark red and wet, covered at the tip. Jon tries not to think too much about it because the smell alone is enough to make him way too close to coming. He spreads his legs a little to relieve the pressure on his dick. The slightest thing and it's going to be over for him.

Jon's not really thinking when he lets Brendon go with his other hand, slides it around to touch Brendon's cheek. He presses his thumb to Brendon's lower lip, all puffy and bruised looking. Brendon shudders a little and his wet lips part, his tongue coming out to soothe his flesh.

His tongue brushes Jon’s thumb, and he opens his eyes, wide and surprised and doesn’t look away from Jon as he takes the tip of it between his lips, sucking wet and a little needy.

Jon groans, a sharp sound pressed against Brendon’s skin and Brendon shudders, teeth catching in surprise around Jon’s thumb.

Jon hisses and humps the air, so fucking _hard_. He pushes his tongue in, a shallow stab and uses the pressure of his thumb holding Brendon open to dig in deeper, lick in where Brendon is hot and tight, so fucking tight.

Brendon bites a little harder as Jon keeps going, licking him open, taking the taste of Brendon into himself.

Jon crooks his thumb forward, pushes in until he can feel the spot that makes Brendon’s hips arch back as he tries to fuck himself on Jon’s finger and tongue and Jon doesn’t have a hold on Brendon anymore, a thumb in Brendon’s mouth, the other in his ass, so he just lets Brendon go, humping the bed and pushing back against Jon’s face.

“Tell me,” Jon says hoarse and low, pushing the words against Brendon’s skin.

Brendon lets out a low cry and shakes his head, biting harder on Jon thumb.

Jon hisses and tugs his hand away, brings it down to join his other, spreads Brendon’s ass open and just licks until he’s sure Brendon’s going to pass out or fall apart or both.

Brendon’s going a little crazy trying to get himself off against the bed.

“If you tell me,” Jon breathes, just wanting to hear Brendon, “I’ll let you come down my throat,” and that was the wrong thing to say. Brendon gasps and shudders and goes still for a second, tightening hot around Jon’s thumb and then he sags, panting, melting into the bed in a loose pile of limbs.

“Huh,” Jon mumbles, resting his cheek against Brendon’s ass, his thumb still holding Brendon open.

“Shut up,” Brendon says, all weak and breathless.

“No, really, I think you ruined your panties,” Jon says, letting his teeth nip at the fleshy pale skin.

Brendon sighs, exhausted, contented. “Like that wasn’t your plan all along” he says, waving his hand in a vague gesture. “You know you’re just going to keep them with you now,” Brendon mumbles into the covers.

Jon makes a low, noncommittal sound, though it’s the truth.

He presses kisses to Brendon’s skin and gets a hand on his hip to flip him to his back. Brendon’s all pliant and loose now, tired, though Jon’s pretty sure he can change that.

He leans back to take Brendon in, flushed and sweaty , his dick soft and red and wet, hanging between his pale thighs. His panties are bunched beneath his dick, pulled across his thighs, stained with come.

Jon groans and presses his face where the lace is wet and smells like spunk and sweet, musky Brendon. He hooks his thumb in the waist and pulls the panties up, getting Brendon to lift his hips so Jon can get the panties up over his dick and ass.

Jon licks then, licks at the sticky, come soaked fabric, licks at the soft line of Brendon’s dick, nuzzles his nose at Brendon’s balls.

Brendon sighs, a shaky, over-sensitized sigh. He’s looking down at Jon with heavy lidded eyes, his swollen mouth curved up in a sleepy smile.

He pushes his fingers through Jon’s hair, off his sweat damp forehead, curls them and presses Jon’s face harder against the front of his panties.

Brendon lets out a pleased hum, his other hand touching Jon’s cheek, reverent.

Jon licks at the sticky fabric until he feels Brendon shift restlessly, a little uncomfortable as his dick hardens. He slides his hand between Brendon’s thighs again, circles the tip of his finger over Brendon’s hole, covered in filmy lace, presses just enough that Brendon arches, fingers tugging Jon’s hair, pulling him closer until Jon’s got a face full of Brendon’s sticky, panty-covered dick.

Jon hooks the waist dow over Brendon’s dick, hard again, and Jon doesn’t hesitate, just opens his mouth and takes Brendon in, the taste of his come on Jon’s tongue making him shudder and shove his free hand down his jeans and underwear, fingers curling around his dick.

Jon tries to keep the rhythm on Brendon going as he uses both hands to get his pants and underwear off, kind of awkward while kneeling on the floor with a mouthful of dick. With a little panting and slobbering, he manages to get everything off. He pushes his hands underneath Brendon’s ass and with a move that’s nowhere near as smooth as he would have liked he gets Brendon shoved up the bed until his head is resting on the pillows. He digs his fingers into Brendon and rolls then, so he’s on his back and Brendon’s lying over him, knees braced on either side of Jon’s shoulders, Brendon’s weight supported on his hands as he leans against the headboard.

“Come on,” Jon mumbles, before he takes Brendon in, “fuck my face.”

Brendon lets out a startled, shaky laugh but he does just that, sets up a shallow rhythm that has Jon doing his best to relax his jaw and cover his teeth and let Brendon in.

After a little while, when Jon’s mouth is full of saliva and Brendon’s pre-come and both of them are panting, Brendon cups Jon’s jaw. “Stop,” he mumbles, shoulders heaving as he tries to get his breath. “I want to ride you.”

Before Jon can say anything Brendon’s scrambling over the side of the bed, coming back with a tiny bottle of lube.

It’s their second time, after a lot of discussion and several tests, without a condom.  
Jon has to grip the base of his dick as Brendon settles over him, it’s pretty intense and this has already gone on longer than he expected. He’s pretty sure he’s going to come the minute Brendon gets all the way down, panties restraining his thighs, hand pressing his dick to his belly, holding his balls out of the way.

Brendon sinks down so slowly Jon thinks he might pass out. Jon cups Brendon’s hips where the lace is clinging to his skin, rubs his thumbs against the material, pressing it against Brendon.

Brendon sighs a shaky sigh and then he’s all the way down, Jon’s dick fully inside and he’s not moving, eyes wide, lips wet and parted.

“Oh god,” he mumbles, head falling back, hand smearing precome as the head of his stick slides against his belly.

Jon’s right, it takes maybe a minute or two of Brendon bouncing on his dick, eyes heavy lidded and locked on Jon’s and Jon doesn’t have time to warn Brendon before he arches and comes hard, head knocking sharply against the headboard, fingers squeezing Brendon’s hips.

“Ugh,” Brendon says, eyes wide as he registers the feel of Jon’s come in him.

“Sorry,” Jon says but he’s laughing and he doesn’t feel all that sorry, he feels pretty fucking amazing.

“Yeah right, jackass,” Brendon mutters, but it’s rueful. He gingerly pulls himself off, still hard, dick red.

“You know what I’d bet you’d like?” Jon says, all playful and a little dirty, pretty sure Brendon’s going to flip his shit for this.

Brendon cocks an eyebrow.

Jon pulls Brendon down for a kiss, hands tangling in his hair. He inhales, takes in the smell of Brendon around him, on him, and shivers, aftershocks zinging through him.

He cups Brendon’s jaw, licks along his lower lip, takes his tongue between his lips. “If I lick you open now,” Jon breathes, eyes closed, face hot because they’ve never done that and that’s maybe a lot kinkier than Brendon in girly underwear. Though Jon’s not quite sure, he’s still learning.

It doesn’t really matter though because Brendon is so clearly into that idea, he makes a low pleading noise almost like a whimper and he rubs himself shamelessly against Jon’s belly.

“How?” Jon mumbles, kissing Brendon’s lips open. “You want to sit on my face?”

Brendon shakes his head and cries out arching as Jon slides his thumb down the line of Brendon’s ass. He circles his thumb where it’s wet and red and goes hot all over. He could probably get hard again, thinks it’s not that far off.

“Get me on my hands and knees.” Brendon pushes the words into Jon’s mouth as he tries to get more pressure from Jon’s finger.

That works for Jon and he scrambles to his knees, pulls Brendon up against him, flushed skin on skin and braces them with his hands around Brendon, palming his lower back. He kisses him, slow and soft but it quickly turns dirtier as Brendon rubs himself against Jon’s hip and starts breathing hard.

“Okay, okay, needy,” Jon bites back a laugh and kisses Brendon once more, a quick brush of lips, before turning Brendon around, settling him on his hands and knees.

Jon runs a teasing hand down Brendon’s side, over his ass and palms both sides, spreading him open.

The first swipe of his tongue is wet and really messy, and it’s not actually all that sexy at first, the taste of his own come leaking out of Brendon.

Except Brendon fucking _growls_ and thrusts himself back on Jon’s tongue and pleads for real then, a jumble of words that might have no meaning at all except for the _way_ Brendon says them, like this is all he wants, _needs_.

“Oh my god,” Brendon hisses, head down, sweaty hair hanging in his eyes. He reaches back awkwardly, gripping the back of Jon’s head, pressing him harder against his ass.

Jon’s done teasing Brendon, he’s gotten more than he could have possibly asked for tonight and Brendon’s writhing and arching and clearly past needing to come, again.

Jon takes the taste of himself from Brendon’s body and reaches around to wrap his fingers around Brendon’s dick.

“Please,” Brendon whispers, letting go to curl his fingers around Jon’s wrist, holding him tighter, urging him faster.

“Yeah, come on,” Jon mutters, digging his tongue in harder, licking wet and sticky and breathing it all in.

Brendon’s rocking forward into Jon’s hand, pushing back on his tongue and trying to get a rhythm going. He’s too far gone though and it doesn’t really work so Jon just holds on and goes with it, letting Brendon show him what he needs, until Brendon cries out sharply and comes with a flood of heat over Jon’s hand.

Jon keeps licking though and now it’s mostly the taste of Brendon’s skin again, wet and pink.

“Shit,” Brendon groans, dropping to his elbows and not doing anything to get Jon to stop.

“Yeah,” Jon agrees.

Brendon shivers and shakes a little and pushes weakly at Jon’s forehead, trying to get him to pull off.

Jon presses a kiss to Brendon’s ass, panties still stretched around his thighs, and slides up the bed. He hovers over Brendon, kisses his shoulder, the curve of his throat, the damp skin at the nape of his neck.

Brendon turns to his side, Jon throws an arm around his waist, and tugs, rolls to his back until he’s settled against the pillows.

Brendon sprawls loose limbed and heavy over Jon, arms around his neck, face pressed to Jon’s throat.

“Oh god,” he sighs, settling his weight with his legs between Jon’s spread thighs.

Jon hums low in agreement, hand running over the dip of Brendon’s lower back where he’s still flushed and sweaty-warm.

“You’re the best mind-reading boyfriend ever,” Brendon mumbles sleepily, pleased, against Jon’s jaw.

Jon grins and presses a kiss to Brendon’s hair.

 

[ the end ]


End file.
